


Life's True Delights

by kuchi



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Food as a Metaphor for Love, Gen, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24930409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuchi/pseuds/kuchi
Summary: After closing up the shop, Iroh takes a rare opportunity to make tea with his nephew and friends.
Relationships: Iroh & The Gaang (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 90
Collections: Eat Drink and Make Merry 2020





	Life's True Delights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [libbi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/libbi/gifts).



> a treat for you! Your prompt got me thinking about their favourite teas and then this happened. thanks to guileheroine for beta

“All right,” Iroh said, delightedly scanning his eyes across the selection of tea leaves and blends laid out in front of him. “Who’s first?” 

Six small clay saucers lay in a haphazard line across the long table. They presented a rather eclectic array of teas, one that would certainly have raised eyebrows if it had been an order from a table of customers. No matter – they would all be brewed to perfection under his watch. He had let the children pick whatever they wanted from his stores; it was more than pleasing to have Zuko and his distinguished friends taking the time to visit an old man in his tea shop, let alone that they had agreed so enthusiastically to a late evening tea making session upon his suggestion. 

They were cramped into the workspace behind the massive dining room of the Jasmine Dragon, which had closed for the day scarcely an hour ago. Zuko had come in the evening, and Iroh had dismissed Ling and Seong early, so Zuko could help his uncle tidy up and prepare the dishes before his friends began filtering in from their busy schedules. Iroh chuckled; it was quite a sight to see His Majesty the Fire Lord scrubbing the dishes with a shabby apron tied around his ceremonial wear from an earlier meeting that he hadn’t yet managed to get out of. 

The children were waiting surprisingly patiently as Iroh finished bringing a large, bronze kettle to the boil and pinched out the fire of the stove with a wave of his hand – perhaps they had tired themselves out from the day. After all, they were not children but heads of state, soldiers and peacemakers. Even if there was a bittersweet pang in Iroh’s heart to think of them as such. 

“Let’s start on this end,” Sokka said amiably. He was the one at the closest edge, next to Katara. A succession of eye rolls ensued as Iroh hummed his agreement and brought the kettle to the Water Tribe siblings, their knees knocking into each other as they fought for space over the low table. 

“Ah, Katara, l see you have picked out a delicate camomile. How calming.” 

Sokka grunted as his sister gave him a smirk. Iroh picked up the saucer of dried mustard-coloured flowers and gave an earnest sniff.

Katara smiled eagerly. “I heard it helps you sleep. I think I’ll need that if I'm going to get used to these early nights here.”

Aang piped up from the other end of the table, “You mean you're gonna need it so you don’t miss our morning exploring session. Again.” He elbowed the figure on the stool next to him, “Right, Zuko?” 

A blush crept over Katara's face, and she pouted pridefully, remarkably reminiscent of her brother. “It’s not my fault you guys think it’s normal to go _sightseeing_ at the break of dawn!”

Aang pouted back - it must be a common game for them. “Well, that’s the only time of day we won’t get stopped every five minutes because of His Royal Spiciness and his dashingly recognisable face.” Suki gave an agreeing laugh, while Sokka hummed in thought. 

Zuko, who had been idling, sat up straight with a scowl. “You and your tattoos aren’t exactly inconspicuous.”

“ _Guys._ Tea.” That was Toph, who was standing, arms crossed against the table in a relaxed slouch. 

“Yeah,” Sokka concurred. “What about my tea?”

Smiling at their hijinks, Iroh turned his attention to him. “Sokka, let's see what you have. A full-bodied black tea! Just classic.”

“I heard this is what earthbending soldiers drink first thing in the morning for their strength.” 

“Quite right. A dash of milk will be perfect. Now, both of you have picked strong infusions with long brewing times. Sokka, you will need to brew your tea in boiling water for three minutes,” Iroh declared. “Katara, you may go for double that time. Just smell the fragrance of the chamomile as it brews, you will know exactly when it is calling to you.” Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Sokka and Zuko sharing a look from the two ends of the table. No doubt his nephew was rolling his eyes at such a fanciful declaration over mere tea.

But Iroh knew there was nothing _mere_ about tea. He left the siblings to steep their tea leaves, Katara stirring curious spirals into her pot with a finger held above it as she watched the leaves unfurl. Iroh had almost forgotten – they must have hardly any flowering plants down in the South Pole, and traded goods were of course out of the question. It may even be her first time trying such an infusion. Pride bloomed in his chest at the thought; that he had the privilege of serving the most unfairly war-worn children their first taste of such a serene remedy.

Next was Suki, who smiled and pushed forward her saucer of barley grains. They were toasted by Iroh himself some weeks ago to a warm golden-brown colour. “Barley tea, clear and reliable. Great choice. You can also steep it for a long time, ten minutes at least.”

Suki nodded as Sokka leaned over a stooped Katara to hand over the heavy kettle to her; it was large and unwieldy wrapped in the thick quilted cloths that allowed the hot metal to be handled. “Thank you, Sokka,” Suki said in a sing-song while Sokka bent in a mock of a bow. Katara, Iroh was pleased to note, really did seem too busy smelling her fragrant tea to pay any notice to them.

Suki turned back to Iroh, deftly pouring the water into the pot Zuko had procured for her earlier. She hardly needed to look down to see what she was doing. Impressive. “We have this all the time back on Kyoshi Island. We drink it like water! I know in a place like this I should probably try something new…” she tilted her head towards the selection laid on the table, and all around in the jars piled on every shelf.

Iroh stopped her with a gentle hand. “Nonsense. If I can give a fabled Kyoshi Warrior a taste of her home, then I have done my job. I should say, tea itself–”

Zuko bristled next to Suki. “Uncle, if you say _tea is home_ –”

A chorus of laughter rippled across the table; Iroh couldn’t tell if it was at his own expense or Zuko's, but either idea was agreeable to him. If Zuko's friends were close enough to be privy to his dislike of tea – not to say that he made it a secret! – then all the better. 

Zuko wasn’t all wrong – tea _could_ be home, but not all tea served at home was such a comfort. Iroh had wondered before if his apathy towards it arose not only from its supposedly dirt-like taste (the horror!) but the stifling tea ceremonies back home which had served as part of the palace’s cultural education for generations. There was certainly nothing soothing about tea that was used as a tool for drilling the rote steps of obedience and conformity into one’s head. It was a shame. If the tea rituals of the aristocratic Fire Nation had ever taught contemplation and tranquil humility like the ancient scrolls suggested they did, that aspect was certainly lost before Iroh was born.

Which was exactly why Iroh was serving Zuko the exact opposite of pompousness. Unsurprisingly, his nephew had been the only one who had declined to pick out his own beverage. “Street stalls right here in Ba Sing Se serve this delicious tea. Some might say it is the town’s favourite tea,” Iroh said, rustling the concoction in the saucer in front of Zuko. Crisp green cardamom pods, splitting to show their rounded seeds, chips of russet cinnamon bark and the woodlike buds of cloves lay mixed together with curls of black tea leaves. 

Toph drew a deep breath and curiously sniffed the saucer. It had not escaped Iroh’s notice that her interest had overridden her desire to see – she had climbed onto her wooden stool, though she was surreptitiously clinging to Zuko's arm the entire time her feet were off the ground.

“That's heavenly…” she sighed, her satisfaction compounding Iroh’s. “But I thought you said the jasmine and ginseng were your bestsellers?”

“Here in the Upper Ring, yes, but beyond the walls is a different story. This heavily spiced tea is served all over the bustling streets of the Lower Ring. All kinds of people – labourers and merchants and even small children – gather in little stalls to drink and chat. I can only do my best to replicate what these vendors have perfected.”

Toph was listening – as was Aang, on her other side – but surprisingly, even Zuko's interest was piqued. 

“You will like this one, Zuko.” 

Zuko did not reply, only tipping his saucer into his pot before taking the kettle and pouring intently. “This is a black tea, just like Sokka's. Three minutes, nephew.” Iroh paused, then suggested, “You may also add milk, though that is less common here and more popular in the southern regions.” 

Zuko squinted suspiciously. “I'll pass.” 

Iroh would take what he could get. Another time, he would show Zuko the joys of milk tea. He turned to Toph. Before he could speak, Sokka yelped, almost jumping out of his seat and sending a cascade of jostles down the table. “Ow!” 

Suki yelled, “Sokka!” while Katara shook her head and shoved back. 

“You idiot, that's boiling water.”

Sokka cringed, sticking out his burnt tongue. “You couth cool ith down for me,” he muttered. 

“What's the point of that? It’s tea! Just be patient, Sokka.”

Toph cleared her throat, directing Iroh’s attention. She presented her saucer to him. With a light oolong as a choice of base, it was clear he did not have to teach her the basics – a daughter of wealthy merchants had ample training in tea. Her taste, however, was as proudly unrefined as it was expensive. She had decided to build on it with sprinkles of orange and lemon peel, peppermint leaves and twisted flakes of dried apple. And topping it off were thin, bright blue wisps of cornflower and a smatter of flaky red rosehip pellets. 

Iroh rested his hands on his hips and chuckled. “As bold as it is unconventional.” Toph grinned. “Now, the water should be a little cooler,” he unwound the towels and pressed his palms around the metal to check. There was a small gasp from Suki and Aang’s eyes widened. 

“Wow,” Aang said, awestruck. “You can change the temperature with your firebending?”

“Mmm,” Iroh winked at him, trying not to lose concentration. “It’s a little tricky.”

Aang’s eyes widened again, big as the saucers in front of them. “Can you teach me?” he said eagerly. Iroh was struck again, a bitter weariness in his heart. The most powerful being in the world – the one who had stopped a hundred-year war – sat in front of him, ogling like an excited child. He _was_ an excited child. 

Iroh looked playfully toward his nephew. “Maybe Zuko can teach you.”

“ _Zuko_ can do it?”

“Not yet, Uncle’s been showing me but I rarely get–”

He let them carry on, busying himself with tipping Toph’s mixture into her teapot and pouring the water. “In a minute or two,” he told her, “do let me know how that tastes.”

“Will do, old man,” Toph said with relish, taking a long whiff of it. Iroh did the same – sweetness cut through with refreshing citrus. 

“Now, Aang,” he said, a lightness returning to his chest. “You are the real pioneer here. I’m so glad you like my new invention.” In Aang’s saucer was a fine, glimmering powder – extracts of tea, lychee, and cane sugar. Next to him was a tall glass of water, chilled to perfection by Katara at Iroh’s request. 

“I can’t believe you invented something so delicious! Instant cold tea – that’s totally genius.” 

Sokka piped up, “ _Completely_ genius. I’m surprised no one here invented it before, with how much they love tea and hot it is in the summer.”

Iroh laughed heartily at their compliments. “Usually, Aang, I would mix two spoons for my customers, but something tells me you would prefer three. You know, I was thinking of you when I made this lychee flavour. ”

Lychees were practically a staple of the fruity, energetic air nomad diet, along with peaches. Aang had told him before how the monks took tea before they meditated sometimes – “but that was sharp stuff, designed to clear your head” – ginger, lemon, sometimes a touch of honey to temper the taste. Aang had practically leapt when Iroh asked if he wanted sweet lychee tea. 

Finally, Iroh turned back to the stove, next to which was his own pot. He spent a few seconds heating the water back to the right temperature before he poured his daily, reliable cup of jasmine. “Ah,” he sighed, closing his eyes as the sweet, heady scent filled his nostrils. 

As they all sipped their drinks, Iroh rested against the counter with a satisfied smile. Even if Zuko was not its biggest fan – though he was rethinking that now, watching him take small sips, each less hesitant than the one before it – his friends loved Iroh’s tea. There was a rare, serene smile on Zuko's face as he watched them talk over each other, and he caught Iroh's eyes briefly. Iroh chuckled back, grateful. That smile was getting less rare each time he saw Zuko. And the fact that Zuko brought his friends to the Jasmine Dragon time and again told Iroh more than his nephew would want to admit. He did not ask yet how long they were visiting or the reasons each of them were here, but it would not be long until they were dispersed to all corners of the world again. These children who were always hard at work, undoing the failings of his generation. These children who had not only their luxuries, but their families, their lives, their _peoples,_ torn away from them by a war that Iroh himself had a part in arbitrating. That after all that, Iroh could give to them – and indeed, to this city, to the Earth Kingdom - just a little bit of liquid respite, was the truest gift that life had ever given him. 

**Author's Note:**

> pls comment what tea iroh would make you


End file.
